These are the words that tore away all feeling,
and those are the words that gently broke my heart,
and these are the times I wonder if you’re reeling,
or if you noticed in time right at the start,
I know for example her eyes were open,
and mine were sewn tightly, tightly shut,
the needle in my hand dripping only slightly from the blood.
Too hard I clung to cause and to effect, and genuine timelines,
too soft I clung to you.
These are the words, there on the page,
the echoing fades into the distance,
never quite leaving, growing louder and softer turn by turn.
All human life is here, still the valley continues it’s echoes,
I wonder where did this all start?
In a single line which I wrote to you,
In a moment my eyes met thine?
How did she echo my thoughts so precisely?
And how did I echo hers imperfectly in mine?